A Different Kind of Magic
by Project 0
Summary: Harry, Hermione, and Ron are captured and taken to Malfoy Manor. They fight their way out but get separated! While Hermione recovers from her ordeal, she and Fleur begin to grow closer... Fleurmione
1. Chapter 1

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He could hear Hermione's screams through the floorboards above them, agonizing in their intensity and duration. Ron was throwing himself desperately- pointlessly- against the door to their dungeon.

"HERMIONE!" he shrieked, over and over again. The other captives- Luna, Ollivander, and Griphook, sat huddled in the corner. Hopeless; that's how their situation looked.

Suddenly, the screams above stopped. He could hear muffled voices overhead and then footsteps. He hoped Hermione was still alive. If she was dead…

With each footstep, nearer and nearer to their prison, Harry's anger and frustration well up in him. By the time the door was opened and Theodore Nott stood gloatingly before them, both Harry and Ron were riled up to a fever pitch.

Without any prior discussion or logical thought, they both charged the door. With a strangled cry of rage, Ron brought down their former classmate with a crushing tackle. Nott didn't get back up. Harry quickly grabbed the wand from between his slack fingers and he and the redhead took off for the main room and towards Hermione.

As another Death Eater unsuspectingly rounded the corner, Harry let off a silent stunner. Stopping only for Ron to grab his wand, they continued on down the corridor. They actually managed to take down a couple more henchmen before the alarm was raised. By that time, they stood just outside the door to their goal. Back to back, they fought off another small group of their enemies and ran through it into the room beyond.

There, standing with a knife to Hermione's throat, stood Bellatrix. For a moment, Harry felt relief in knowing that his best friend was still alive. But as he quickly assessed their situation, he noticed the pained expression on her face, the tear tracks covering her cheeks, and how her clothes were soaked in her blood.

Again, he felt his temper rising.

"Uh uh, baby Potter," crooned Bellatrix, pulling Hermione closer to her. "You're both going to drop your wands to save your precious little mudblood." She ran her tongue up the side of her captive's cheek, and Harry watched as the young brunette flinched.

Reluctantly, he and Ron both raised their hands above their heads in a show of surrender. Ron dropped his wand to the floor, its impact with the floor slightly masked by the sound of many footsteps approaching. Only a second later, Harry made as if to drop his wand, too, but not before letting off a silent spell aimed at the steel-and-glass chandelier above Bella's head.

It fell with a heavy crunch, narrowly missing the madwoman and her hostage, as they dove out of its path. The boys both scooped up their wands again and ran for the front door, Ron grabbing Hermione's hand on the way.

Once outside, they ran blindly away from the house, dodging hexes as best they could and returning fire in the general direction from which they guessed the spells were coming. Cover came in the form of only a few scrawny trees and the trio used them as best they could. They were slowed down by Hermione who was quite unsteady on her feet; really, she was weaving all over the place and Harry suspected the only reason she stayed upright was Ron's strong arms holding onto her. Nevertheless, the Death Eaters were catching up and Harry came to a decision.

"You two, keep going!" he shouted. "I'll stay back and cover you. Keep running until you feel the anti-apparition wards fall and then get to safety." Ron looked back, about to argue but Harry cut him off. "I'll be right behind you the whole time. Meet me at Padfoot's!" he shouted, turning halfway to send another spell over his shoulder. It hit its mark.

They continued their mad dash and Harry knew they had to be getting close to the edge of the wards. He watched as Ron and Hermione disappeared on the other side of a dense copse of trees about 20 feet ahead of him and he let himself breathe a small sigh of relief. _Almost there_, he thought. _We can make it!_

Just as soon as the thought crossed his mind, however, he found himself surrounded by three Death Eaters.

"I am going to enjoy this, Potter," smirked Greyback as he took a step nearer. "I have been looking forward to tasting your flesh for years now."

"You can't touch me, Greyback!" Harry responded with a surety he did not feel. "Voldemort wants me alive."

The werewolf hissed at hearing his lord's name spoken. "_The Dark Lord_," he corrected, "will surely grant me an allowance after all the trouble you have caused here tonight. Or, you could come quietly and I may only take a small bite." He grinned ravenously.

The black-haired teen swallowed. He was not going to go down without a fight, but he didn't see how he could defeat three Death Eaters on his own. _I can get two but the third guy will get me for sure. Well, at least Hermione and Ron are safe_, he thought. _My death won't be for nothing. _

He took one last deep breath and shouted, "Expelliarmus! Immobilus!"

"Stupefy!" In that exact same moment, he heard the sound of another spell being cast and the voice could only belong to-

"Ron! You bloody idiot! What are you doing here, I told you to go on ahead! Though, not that I'm not glad that you didn't, mate! Thanks for that!"

"Sure thing, Harry! Couldn't just up and leave you. Let's go, though. The apparition point is just beyond those trees and Hermione is already there waiting for us. Plus, there's already more on the way," he said pointing.

And sure enough, another wave of Death Eaters was already bearing down on them.

They took off, sprinting for all they were worth. Harry could feel the wards slipping away behind them but his heart sank once again as their enemies appeared between them and the place where Ron had left Hermione.

They began to fight anew, more fiercely than ever, but as more and more opponents arrived, Harry knew that if they stayed, they would die. He also knew Hermione wasn't the brightest witch of their age for nothing; she could have already gotten herself to safety. Without another word, he grabbed the back of Ron's shirt and turned on his heel, apparating them both to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. As soon as they arrived, Ron wrenched himself free of Harry's grasp.

"Bastard! What about Hermione? You left her!" he screamed at Harry. His face was bright red and spittle was flying from his mouth as he yelled. "You fucking left her!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love getting feedback!

Sorry this one is kind of short, it just came to a point where it felt like the end of the chapter. And, as always, I don't own anything with any kind of $ value. Enjoy!

Harry sat alone, locked in the darkness of what had been his godfather's room. It had been two weeks since their escape from Malfoy Manor and the guilt was sitting on his chest like a rock, suffocating him and making each heartbeat physically painful.

_I'm such a coward!_ He berated himself, yet again, while lashing out at the wall. It dented slightly while the bruise on his hand swelled further. He had refused to heal it after each of the previous assaults on the wall. He had left his best friend behind to certain torture and death. Sure, he had thought she had made it to safety at the time, but he should have made sure. And, when he had found out she wasn't where they had agreed to meet, he _should have gone back!_

Growling, he raised his hand to punch the wall again, but suddenly found he lacked the energy. Now despondent, Harry sagged back down onto the bed, tears leaking from his eyes. Not only had he left Hermione, but Ron wasn't speaking to him. They were trapped together, in the sanctuary of his late godfather's home, and the awkwardness alone felt like it would crush him.

Sighing, his mind moved on to the final nail in his proverbial coffin: he hadn't saved the other prisoners from the Death Eaters, either. In his enraged blitz to save Hermione, he and Ron had both left the three other miserable souls with whom they had been trapped- Ollivander, frail and despairing, and Griphook, cynically expecting that he had been abandoned to die in that dank pit. (And wasn't that just what Harry had done to them?) Only Luna had seemed, for the most part, unfazed. Sure, she had been bruised and dirty, but she still had that dreamy, ethereal quality about her. But he had abandoned her there, too!

A quiet knock on the door ripped him from his self-condemnation. A tired wave of his wand unlocked the door.

"Yeah?" His voice was weary.

The door inched open and the head of Remus Lupin appeared through the opening. "Just wanted to let you know, they just got back."

Harry shot up. "And?" Suddenly, his voice was insistent, his whole body tensed.

Remus shook his head. "I haven't gotten the official word but, from the looks of things…" He trailed off.

The teen lowered his head again and said nothing. The Order had been sending search parties to look for Hermione whenever they could spare people. Between keeping their heads down when things outside got too dangerous, and not allowing the more vulnerable or sought after members to aid the search, not a lot of progress had been made. In fact, they had yet to find a single trace of her.

"I should be out looking for her," he mumbled. He slowly raised his eyes to look at Remus, a challenging look in them.

The werewolf sighed and came the rest of the way into the room. "Harry, we have had this conversation before. You just barely escaped yourselves. After such a close call, they will be looking even more desperately for you. You cannot go and you know that."

"And you all just expect me to sit here, safe and warm, while she is out there, Merlin knows where! You know I can't do that! I owe her that much! If we keep pussyfooting around, we're never going to find her. I'm not afraid, Remus. Let them catch me! I don't care, if I can get her back. She didn't deserve-"

His voice broke and he stopped, desperately trying to hold back the tears at the edges of his eyes.

Remus stepped quickly forward and embraced him tightly. "This isn't your fault, Harry. It might not feel like it, but you did the right thing. You couldn't have fought them all off; they have much more experience than you. Better that you two made it back, than-"

"Don't finish that sentence!" Harry snarled, pulling away from Remus. He had his wand drawn and pointed at his old professor. The older man was instantly contrite, realizing what he had been about to say.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean-"

Suddenly, klaxons sounded deafeningly all around them.

"Someone has tripped the wards!" shouted Remus before dashing off to defend their safe house. Harry gritted his teeth and followed on his heels. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were met by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Bill, Fleur, Moody, and Tonks. With anxious expressions and wands drawn in preparation, they crept towards the front of the house. Silently, they all looked at each other before Moody nodded, giving the signal to fan out. Mr. Weasley headed to a front-facing window and, ever so slightly, moved a corner of the curtain aside. He peeked out, then looked back at Mad-Eye and shrugged. His meaning was clear to everyone else: I don't see anything.

The old auror turned to Bill, who sidled up to the edge of the front door. He reached out and grasped the knob before looking back to make sure everyone was ready. They were. Quickly, he flung the front door open, taking care to stay out of the doorframe, and-

There, half standing, half leaning against the outside wall of the house, stood a ragged and disheveled creature. The house members slowly stepped forward.

A choking sound came from Ron before he managed a gasping whisper.

"Hermione…"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing with any $ value.

Blood soaked her clothes, matted her hair to her head and seemed to have permanently dyed her skin red in places. Hermione took a faltering step forward before nearly collapsing but Fleur managed to rush forward and catch her in time. The Frenchwoman was surprised when the younger woman stiffened and tried to push her away. However, she was too weak and Fleur kept a strong but gentle hold of her until she eventually succumbed.

"What 'as 'appened to you, cherie?" she whispered as she took the girl into her arms and carried her back inside. The others followed them back into the house and the relief at having her back was palpable, though they now had to worry about her recovery. Mrs. Weasley immediately rushed off to gather potions and other healing items.

"Here, Fleur, let me take her upstairs." Bill stepped forward to take Hermione from the blonde.

Harry also stepped forward, his guilt pushing him to be the one, to do something for his friend no matter how small.

"Hermione," he said quietly, speaking directly to her. "I'll help you." He knew she would be stubborn about it, would want to walk under her own power.

Still in Fleur's arms, she turned her face towards him and he struggled to stifle his gasp. It was the first time in 17 days that he had gotten a good look at her face and the changes astounded him. She was pale (likely from blood-loss, considering the amount of it covering her) and gaunt. He felt another stab of guilt thinking that she may not have eaten during her time missing.

However, the most striking difference was in her eyes. Before, they shone with happiness and trust and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. There had been confidence; her gaze had been level. Now all that was missing: her eyes were dark and unreadable and they darted quickly between each person in the room before moving to the dark corners and doorways beyond them. There was an almost feral quality to them. The deep hollows beneath only added to the effect, making her look haunted.

After a moment of silence, Hermione nodded, accepting Harry's offer. Fleur pursed her lips disapprovingly but chose to say nothing for the moment. She gently eased the younger woman back to a standing position but didn't let go until Harry had a hold of the brunette. Both felt her flinch again from the contact as he gingerly slid his arm around her waist for support.

"You ready, 'Mione?" The injured girl nodded without looking at him. Between Harry's help and her heavy use of the banister, they managed to make it to the top landing before her exhaustion nearly overwhelmed her.

"She needs to be in bed _now!_" came a cross-sounding Mrs. Weasley. She had already gathered all her healing supplies and arrived at the top of the stairs directly behind them. Fleur stood on the step below her with clean towels and a stern expression on her face. "Harry, if you would please _carry_ her the rest of the way? This level of exertion isn't doing her a bit of good at the moment." The matronly woman then swept past him into the hallway.

Harry watched her disappear into one of the many bedrooms. Then, he turned to scoop up Hermione and follow Mrs. Weasley's instructions. The girl in his arms shrieked, terrified by his sudden and unexpected movement, struggling against him. Already, halfway through the motion of picking her up and off balance, he nearly dropped her in surprise. Thankfully, Fleur had stayed nearby and she quickly steadied the young man.

Then, without a word, she handed him the towels she was carrying and, with inhuman speed, took Hermione into her own arms before either could realize what was happening. She set off immediately for the room into which Mrs. Weasley had disappeared just moments before.

"Wha-? Hey! Fleur!" Harry trotted after her. As Fleur entered the room, Mrs. Weasley met Harry at the door and took the towels from him.

"Thank you, Harry. We'll take care of her from here." With that, the door was closed in his face.

Fleur laid Hermione on the available bed and she and Mrs. Weasley set to work straight away. A bottle of essence of Dittany was placed on the side table.

"Aqua eructo!" A stream of warm water shot out of Mrs. Weasley's wand into a basin. The towels were set out next to it.

"Dear, can you tell us with which spells you were hit?" queried the redhead.

Fleur, who had started cleaning her patient's matted-down hair out of her face, felt her blood boil as Hermione listed spell after spell.

"Diffindo, immobulus, deprimo, everte statum, confundus, petrificus totalus, stupefy, I was clipped by incendio…" She paused for a moment, pondering. "Oh, but it was mostly sectum sempra and crucio."

Whether it was the matter-of-fact way in which the info was given, the quieted tone of the normally outspoken Gryffindor, or the idea of everything the girl must have gone through, Fleur couldn't say, but something had unnerved her. She spared a glance to the Weasley matriarch but she seemed to take it as a matter of course.

They set about healing the brunette: Fleur spelled her hair clean while Mrs. Weasley gently cleaned the grime and dried blood from her skin. The essence of Dittany was then applied to her many wounds, including the bite mark on her left collarbone and the deep gashes across her abdomen and shoulder. Hermione began to relax while this was going on and by the time they finished, her head was lying against Fleur's shoulder. The Frenchwoman coaxed her into taking the sleeping draught brought up by Mrs. Weasley and she fell into a dead sleep.

As they left, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind them, Fleur turned to the older woman.

"All zose injuries…" She shook her head, trying to chase off the memory from only a few minutes ago. "Where 'as she been for all zis time? What 'appened to 'er ?"

"Only she can tell us that, Fleur. When she wakes up, we will check on her and give a something to eat. I suspect someone will get the details from her then."

"And if she is not ready to give zem?"

Mrs. Weasley could only shrug. She walked back downstairs to put her supplies away and then she would begin to prepare dinner.

As the days passed by, Hermione recovered under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Her many cuts and bruises faded until they had mostly disappeared and she regained her healthful appearance while eating nutritious meals. The intelligent young witch would talk quietly with her friends- Harry and Ron were again on speaking terms- and she smiled and laughed more readily.

Remus had spoken to her and gotten the story of her weeks on the run: After Ron had left her to go back to help Harry, she had stumbled and collapsed into the midst of the trees. Sheer luck, it seemed had caused her to pass out in the shadows, unseen by the Death Eaters as they searched for the Golden Trio.

"The next day- I don't really know what time it was, just that the sun was already up. I came to and there were more Death Eaters patrolling the area. I'm not sure, but it seemed like they were looking for some more escapees. I didn't get much information before I decided I needed to get out of there.

"I knew if I disapparated, the sound of it would draw the attention of the Death Eaters but I couldn't stay there and there was nowhere else for me to go without giving myself away. So I did it, anyway. As soon as I apparated, I disapparated again. I knew they were following me so I kept going until I felt I had lost most of them. And then, I ran on foot.

"Occasionally, a group of them would catch up with me and we would fight until I could get away again. Sometimes, I wouldn't have the energy to apparate and I just hid. A couple of times, they nearly found me. Once, they did.

"I almost didn't make it, that time. There were four of them. I managed to take two of them out. After a long chase, I managed to hide again but I still don't know how I got out of there alive. I think I finally lost them for good about two days before I showed up here. I wanted to make sure I wasn't followed."

"That was brilliant of you, Hermione!" shouted Ron.

"Yeah, but you sure had us worried there, for a bit," added Harry. "It's good nothing really bad happened to you before you got here."

Fleur thought the young witch's eyes darkened at that but then Hermione smiled brightly and agreed with him. As the rest chatted on animatedly into the night, Fleur sat musing silently.

A/N: I am going to visit my grandparents for a week so I might not be able to post again as soon as I would like. I have already started on the next chapter, though, so hopefully it won't be too much of a delay. There will be some Fleur-Hermione interaction coming up within the next couple chapters. Thanks to all who are following this story.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Was able to get away to a place with Wi-Fi for a brief period so, sooner than expected, here is the next installment. I hope you are all enjoying this and if you have any comments or criticisms, please feel free to let me know.

As always, I own nothing with any kind of $ value.

A week after Hermione's arrival at Grimmauld Place had left her in much better shape than when she had first arrived. Her bruises and cuts had all but disappeared and she smiled and interacted with the other occupants. But Fleur continued to watch her.

Mrs. Weasley persisted in fussing over the brunette, adding heaping helpings to the girl's plate, which she hardly touched. She shooed off the boys if she felt they were getting too rowdy around the brunette, and would push Hermione to go to bed if she felt it got too late. All this led to Hermione trying desperately to avoid the Weasley matriarch, although she knew she had only the best of intentions. She even began staying in her room for long hours at a time, much to the consternation of the other residents.

"Hermione!" Harry called to her one morning. "Breakfast is ready. C'mon down!"

"Oh, don't you bother her," stated the redheaded matron. "I'll bring something up for her."

"Non. I will get 'er," volunteered the Veela. She didn't want Hermione shutting herself off any more than she had already begun to.

She reached the young woman's door and knocked.

The door opened, revealing Hermione standing warily. "Yes?"

"Come down for breakfast. We are all waiting for you." When Hermione hesitated, she added, "You need to come down, 'ermione. Madame Weasley is just worried about you. We all are, cherie. But once she sees 'ow well you are doing, she will calm 'erself and not smozzer you wiz so much care. "

"Fleur-"

"Please, 'ermione. Come downstairs." As she spoke, Fleur reached forward and gently took the younger woman's hand in her own. Hermione allowed herself to be pulled out of her room and led down to the kitchen.

The others looked up from their places at the table - Ron predictably had too much food stuffed into his open mouth – when the women walked in hand in hand. Hermione hesitated at the doorway, not liking being the focus of attention but Fleur pulled gently on her hand again, guiding her to a place at the table. The Veela proceeded to sit in the seat next to her, only letting go of the brunette's hand when she finally sat down herself.

Tonks had gone off on some hush-hush mission with Mad-Eye Moody and Ginny and Professor McGonagall were both still at Hogwarts, as school was in session. Thus, the only ones currently at Grimmauld were the Weasley parents, Bill, Remus, Fleur, and the Trio. Bill and the elder werewolf were set to leave shortly after breakfast. Their assignment had been the subject of debate many evenings, but it had finally been decided the two men would take over the hunt for the remaining horcruxes. Harry had opposed this, of course, stating that the mission had been entrusted to him by Dumbledore himself. But, after the fiasco at Malfoy Manor, the rest of Order would not allow it. Mrs. Weasley had been especially adamant about it.

Hermione - and she suspected Ron, as well - was secretly relieved by this. The thought of going off again, the thought of possibly encountering Bellatrix again, put her into a blind panic from which she did not easily recover. She had nightmares every night about what had happened to her at the insane woman's hands and had begun to avoid sleeping for as long as possible. She knew she would not be able to handle another foray into the woods but she also knew she would never let the boys go off without her.

After an awkward breakfast of forced and stilted conversation with everyone, Hermione managed to sneak back upstairs to her room. It had been nearly three days since she had gotten more than hour's sleep and she just didn't have the energy to pretend for everyone that all was well. She had her own room for the time being and she was glad for it. Between the nightmares, the role playing she felt she needed to perform for everyone and the permanent lumos maxima she had illuminating every corner of her room, it was just easier this way. And so, for the first time in her life, Hermione Granger found that she preferred to be alone.

Knowing that everyone downstairs would be busy for a while, she settled onto her bed with a book. It was an interesting text, full of complex magical theory that wouldn't allow her mind to wander to… other things. She had been reading for a while, engrossed in the words on the page, when suddenly, her lumos maxima went dark. Immediately she shot up, reaching for the nightstand where she had left her wand earlier. It was gone!

She had begun to frantically search nearby on the floor, against the wall, the bed, when she heard it: maniacal laughter. She began to shake, knowing that laugh could only belong to one person. How did she find her? How did she get in without tripping the wards? The panic overran all other thoughts and Hermione ran for the door only to find it wouldn't open. She tugged and pulled before scratching at the wood with her finger nails, blind terror telling her only to run and not how to accomplish it.

"What's this?" came a voice directly into her ear, the hot breath on her neck nearly pushing her over the edge. "Muddy can't even open the door." More insane laughter as she felt a hand ghost around her waist. The door suddenly opened and Hermione bolted out into the hallway with the mad witch wildly shooting spells all around her.

The dimly lit corridor seemed to stretch on forever, the far end swallowed in darkness. Hermione continued to run, shouting warnings for the other house members to get out. There was no sound, save Bellatrix's jeers and the sound of spells breaking objects.

She finally reached the landing when Harry and Ron appeared calmly before her.

"Hermione," questioned Ron. "Watcha doin' up here? Making an awful lot of noise, whatever it is."

"Ron! Harry!" she screamed, trying desperately to get past them, to drag them downstairs with her. "We have to get out of here! She's- Don't let her near me! She's coming!"

"Aww, but 'Mione," countered the redhead. "You can't go downstairs. That's where we stay."

Bellatrix was getting closer now; she could feel it. "Harry! Please-"

"Hermione," interrupted Harry. "I thought you wanted to help but I guess you're just like everyone else."

"No, it's not like-" Suddenly Bellatrix had a hold of her and was pulling her back to the room. The young witch reached out to her friends, trying to grab onto them, only to watch as they turned and walked back down the stairs as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"NOOOOOOO!" she wailed, struggling with all her might to get away.

Her eyes shot open only to find herself staring into the concerned blue eyes of Fleur. She was laying on her bed, gasping and covered in sweat, the book from earlier on the floor. She sat up and reached for her wand. Feeling her fingers wrap around it, she began to calm, if only a little. A nightmare, it had just been another nightmare.

"Is zis why you 'ave not been sleeping?" a gentle voice asked, but the brunette did not acknowledge it. Fleur tried again.

"'ermione?" The Veela reached out to cup the younger woman's face, pausing when she felt her flinch. When she did not move away, however, Fleur pulled her softly into her embrace and held her while she recovered from her terror.

When Hermione moved away to sit up, Fleur questioned her again. "'ermione, it is obvious to us all zat you 'ave not been sleeping very well since you got back. I was starting to wonder whezzer you were sleeping at all. Why did you not tell us about zis?"

Hermione gave no response.

"'ermione." The blonde pulled the brunette's chin so she faced her and continued. "If you are 'aving problems, please tell someone. We know you must 'ave gone zrough somezing awful but you refuse to tell us. Zat is fine, for now. But zis," she gestured vaguely around the room, "zis is not fine."

"Fleur, I am fine." Hermione pulled her head away and looked down.

"Non. Mon chaton, you are not fine. Not right now, not like zis, but you will be. I am 'ere to 'elp you, if you would let me. If you would let us," she amended.

A/N: I figured Hermione might feel, if not exactly resentful, abandoned and about being left to Bellatrix while the others went down to the (relative) safety of the basement. Logically, she knows that they didn't have a choice but in traumatic instances, emotions run high and overpower what we logically know to have happened. So I would think Hermione would feel hurt and abandoned, literally, at the Manor, but also guilt for those feelings as she knows that's not what really happened. And even though she hasn't really told anyone what happened, I think she would feel some sort of emotional abandonment by their (unintentional) ignorance of what she went through during their capture. Just some creative license, really. Hope you enjoyed. :3


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: My thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially SomeAreLakes and Zelda's Hero. It makes me happy to see that you are all enjoying this story.

As always, I own nothing with any $ value.

Over the next few days, Fleur watched as Hermione began to withdraw again, most notably from Harry and Ron. The boys were, as usual, oblivious to the changes at first, but eventually the avoidance reached a level to which no one could remain ignorant. They tried to coax her out of her shell but were without success. In fact, the more any person tried to comfort or cosset her, the more she would avoid them. The easy-going Mr. Weasley and Fleur soon became the only ones she with whom she willingly kept company.

One afternoon, an impromptu meeting was held in the sitting room over Hermione's reclusive behavior. As Hermione consistently stayed alone in her room, it was not difficult for everyone else to gather without her notice. The conversation started innocuously enough, with Mrs. Weasley stating to her husband her concern for the young woman who had become so distant so frighteningly quickly. This was overheard by Ron who quickly brought in Harry. Fleur noticed everyone else in conversation and joined them as well.

"It's just not healthy," Mrs. Weasley was saying. "I mean, she used to be in the middle of everything."

"Yeah! But she hasn't nagged me about researching anything in weeks!" Ron added his two cents.

"You guys, she is still getting over everything that happened, at the Manor and after," defended Harry. "She just needs time…" He trailed off and despite his words he looked unsure.

"She has us!" Ron bit back.

After a pause, the Weasley matriarch started again. "I just don't understand what to do about her. Everything I do seems to just push her away." She sounded so sad and Arthur leaned forward to rub her back for a moment.

"I think Harry's right," her husband spoke up for the first time. "She'll sort this out in her own time. 'Til then, we just have to continue to be patient and supportive." He looked pointedly at Ron.

"What?" The redheaded teen asked defensively. The rest of them chuckled a moment before returning to the seriousness of their conversation.

"Still, with all the stress around here – people always coming and going, the three of you being stuck in here full time, always having to worry about the next attack, the next plan – I think it's not good for anyone, let alone someone who's been through all that she has," Molly mused. "But there's nothing to be done for the moment." She sighed.

"Actually, Madame Weasley, zere is somezing zat I zink can be arranged."

The all looked at the French witch, waiting to see what she would say.

"When I told my family zat I intended to stay 'ere in England zey bought a petit chalet – cottage – for me in Tinworth. I 'ad zought it too out of ze way to stay zere, but now… I would like to take 'ermione zere for a time. I zink it might be good for 'er."

Harry and Ron both looked shocked by this proposal. Be separated from Hermione? Aside from summer breaks, that hadn't happened in seven years. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to mull over the idea for a long moment.

"I don't know, Fleur…" began the older woman.

"Madame Weasley," Fleur began again. "Zough it will just be ze two of us, ze 'ouse 'as many powerful wards protecting it. It is not invincible, but we will not be unprotected. Also, we will be out of ze way of much of ze war zere. I do zink it is a good idea, but I leave ze decision to you and Monsieur Weasley. And, of course, it is up to 'ermione if she wants to go."

Having said her piece, she left the room. They would think it over and discuss it amongst themselves and get back to her with their decision.

After Fleur had left, Harry and the three redheads had continued to discuss what was to be done with the brilliant but distant witch. After a bit, however, Ron became bored with the still continuing debate, and dragged Harry off for a snack and a few games of wizards' chess.

"I think Fleur might be right, dear," stated Mrs. Weasley. "She hasn't been getting on with any of us but you and Fleur. And even then, I doubt you're getting much more than the rest of us."

She watched as her husband silently stood and walked over to the kitchen. His steps were weary and he looked defeated as he reached into the cabinet to retrieve a bottle of Ogden's. From behind another door, he produced a double old-fashioned glass and filled it with ice. Bringing the items with him, he walked back to his wife, sat down and poured himself a glass before responding.

"I agree that she's been rather closed off. But I don't think sending her away is the answer." He rubbed at his temples while speaking. "She is among friends. She must feel safer here with us than exposed all the way out there in Cornwall. There's _nothing_ out there. We can help her here."

Molly watched her husband quickly down his drink and immediately poured another. It wasn't like him to drink in the middle of the day. They stress of the impending war was getting to them all. The situation with Hermione wasn't helping.

"Help her with what, exactly? Has she told you anything? Merlin, even Fleur is being stonewalled and she talks to the girl more than the rest of us combined." Frustration dripped from her every syllable.

"Not yet. But these things take time. And, when the time comes – when she is ready to talk, wouldn't it be nice if there was someone there to listen?" Their voices were gradually rising as the argument progressed.

"Fleur will be there with her. They seem to have grown much closer since Hermione arrived."

"Fleur's here _now_. Why do they need to go all the way out there? Why does she need to be _protected _from _us_?" Arthur gulped down another glass and went to pour yet another. As he poured, they heard footsteps on the stairs.

"I-" The lone word morphed into a strangled sound as Hermione first saw the couple, her eyes darting back and forth between them. Taking a few quick steps backwards, stuttering, she turned and walked stiffly back up the stairs.

The Weasley parents turned back to each other silently; Arthur finished pouring his drink and drank again. He looked back at his wife.

"This is all such a bloody mess. If only…" But he didn't know how to finish the thought.

Mrs. Weasley got up to start on dinner and the conversation was effectively ended.

For the next week and a half, the occupants of Grimmauld Place carried on as usual. Hermione became more reclusive than ever, avoiding Mr. Weasley now as much as his wife, though no one could seem to figure out why. She even shied away from Fleur, though not as markedly as the others.

And so, eventually it was agreed by all that they would try Fleur's suggestion, but only so long as the witch in question consented. The Frenchwoman broached the subject with the teen who didn't offer up an opinion either way. Thus, Fleur made the decision for her and they left 12 Grimmauld Place in the still dark hours of a cool April morning.


End file.
